Hurt and Comfort in Starfleet
by PenPatronus
Summary: COMPLETE Story #1: Prime Ingredient: "The Empath" happens in the alternate timeline BEFORE McCoy is cured of xenopolycythemia. Story #2: Khan's Revenge: Khan knows that the best way to hurt Kirk is to hurt his family. WHUMP Kirk/Spock/Bones friendship, triumvirate, zero slash, hurt/comfort, family, friendship
1. Prime Ingredient, Part 1

**Summary:** The events of "The Empath" happen in the alternate timeline BEFORE McCoy is cured of xenopolycythemia. Major McCoy whump! Kirk / Spock / Bones friendship. Team Triumvirate. Angst, drama, tragedy, hurt / comfort.

 **Author's Note:** This story assumes that the reader has seen the episode, and it re-tells the major plot points without showing every moment or repeating the dialogue word-by-word.

 **Hurt and Comfort in Starfleet**

An Anthology of "Star Trek" Stories

PenPatronus

Story #1

 **The Prime Ingredient, Part 1**

In the days that followed, Ambassador Spock regretted his decision to ignore the message from the _Enterprise_ in favor of his morning routine. He began the day like every other since settling on New Vulcan. He stretched, dressed, ate a lite breakfast and meditated. A curious sensation interrupted his second hour of meditation. Several minutes passed before he categorized the sensation as emotional pain and identified its source as external to himself. Through his telepathic faculties, whether on purpose or not, someone precious to him communicated distress.

Spock opened his eyes and lowered his intertwined fingers. "Computer," he called as he rose to his bare feet and crossed to his desk. "Display new message."

Jim Kirk's young face appeared on the small view screen attached to the white stone wall. "Spock." The captain greeted him with a curt nod and a grim smile. "I know you've vowed to leave us to our destinies but I'm hoping this is one of those times you might make an exception. I need your help. Bones needs your help."

Spock leaned forward in his chair. Premature crow's feet had bloomed from the corners of Jim's bright blue eyes. He'd had aged much during the first half of his first five-year mission. The man was barely in his thirties but looked like he would turn 50 in a week.

"McCoy is sick." Water appeared in Jim's eyes. "Really sick. Xenopolycythemia. He has a year to live—just told me about it today. Spock I'm—I'm devastated. There's no cure, at least not one that we know of. I thought that maybe you…" Jim gulped and blinked away the tears. "Is this how it happens? Is this how I lose him?" Jim asked the question so quietly that Spock wondered who he was really talking to. "Maybe it is. Maybe this is how Bones dies but…" Kirk sighed. He rubbed his eyes with trembling fingers. "I can't do this without him. Some days I only have the courage to command this starship because Spock and McCoy are with me."

Affection for both Kirk and McCoy clogged Spock's throat. "It will be all right, Jim," Spock told the deaf image of his friend. "You will find Yonada. You will find the cure soon."

On the screen, the voice of Uhura summoned Kirk to the bridge. "I'm on my way, Lieutenant," he told her before returning to his attention to Spock. "I have to go. It's the middle of the night on New Vulcan so I might be off the ship by the time you get this message. We're evacuating a research team in the Minara system. Hope to hear from you soon, Spock. Kirk out."

Jim's face disappeared but Spock continued to stare at the screen. "Minara," he murmured. This time the emotional distress he felt was clearly his own. Distress triggered by that one word. Memory recall had slowed in his old age, so it took the Vulcan an entire 4.6 seconds to recall the Minara mission. The dead scientists, the underground prison, the mute empath that McCoy named Gem…

"Computer, priority one call to the _Enterprise_ ," Spock ordered. Blinking lights warned him that the ship was almost out of range. A minute later the blurry, pixelated image of the _Enterprise_ bridge appeared.

"Mr. Spock!" gasped a grinning Montgomery Scott from the captain's chair. "Isn't this a pleasant surprise! I'm afraid your doppelganger isn't here—"

"Mr. Scott," Spock all but barked, "status, please."

"Um…" Scotty scratched the back of his head with both hands. "With all due respect, Sir, I'm not sure you're authorized to hear classified intel about—"

"Jim informed me that the _Enterprise_ was going to Minara. Is that your current location?"

"Aye, but—"

"Has the landing party disembarked?"

"Aye. The captain, Commander Spock, and Doctor McCoy are on the surface, but—"

"Retrieve them immediately, Mr. Scott."

"What?" Scotty shared a doubtful look with Uhura. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Mr. Scott, please listen, I beg of you. Beam the landing party back to the ship right now."

"I—I can't," Scotty sputtered. "There's a hell of a solar storm in this system, Sir. Our instruments won't work properly if we get too close to the radiation."

Spock arranged his fingers in a steeple. With his elbows on the desk and his nose pressed close to the screen, only his blazing eyes were visible to Scotty and the crew. "Mr. Scott, you must try. Kirk, McCoy and Spock are being held prisoner in an underground chamber by beings called Vians. If you do not save them before the Vians begin their tortures, McCoy will surely die."

"What?" Sulu gasped.

Uhura got to her feet. "Torture?"

"Dr. McCoy has not yet informed you that he grievously ill," Spock explained. "In my timeline he was cured before the Minara mission. If he undergoes the same events in his weakened condition, he will be lost before Gem or anyone else can help him."

"Bloody—" Scotty began.

"I will procure a vessel and intercept the _Enterprise_ as quickly as possible. I urge you again: _hurry_." Spock broke the connection as Scotty began to swear in earnest.

* * *

The dizzy spell sent the room spinning in one direction and Leonard McCoy's head in the opposite. He spotted the orange color of the Vians' winged bench and stumbled towards it. Spock called his name but McCoy couldn't risk breaking his concentration to reply. At some point he collapsed to his knees. Callous hands snatched his medical tricorder away. The instrument's whirling chirps preceded a hitched breath. "Doctor, your vital signs are highly irregular," Spock said. "This is exceptionally inconvenient."

"I'm terribly sorry, Spock," McCoy grunted as he rolled his eyes. "Anybody ever mention you have a lousy bedside manner?"

"The captain has been missing for an hour and we have yet to escape."

"And you're worried. I know." McCoy gathered his strength and braced one boot beneath him.

Spock pursed his lips and drew a breath slowly into and out of his nostrils. "As you well know, Vulcans are fully capable of mastering anxiety—"

"Spock…" McCoy waved his hand like he was shooing away a housefly. "I've known you long enough to recognize the difference between mastering anxiety and masking it. You, my friend, for all your abilities, are incapable of either when Jim's life is in danger. One of these days you've got to let me treat your PTSD." McCoy tried and failed to get his other leg beneath him. His ankle rolled. Mute drums pounded behind his eyes. Spock's grip around his forearm felt abnormally hot.

More chirps as the tricorder scanned again. The Vulcan's face flexed into one solid frown. "Dr. McCoy, since you have sustained no injury here and have contracted no disease, I can only conclude that you were unfit for duty before our party landed."

"I'm just tired, Spock," McCoy sighed. "Now help me up, will you?"

Spock complied, hefting Bones to his feet, but didn't drop the subject. "Is Captain Kirk aware that you are ill?"

"I'm not—"

"The readings do not lie, Doctor. And you cannot lie to me."

Bones cocked his chin. "Oh, really?"

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "As you pointed out, we have known one another for a significant amount of time."

McCoy squinted, studying his friend's eyes. "I didn't want you to know," he said after a long minute. "I didn't want anyone but Jim to know until Starfleet assigned the _Enterprise_ a new CMO—until I was due to leave. I didn't want to burden you. Any of you."

"Doctor, I really must continue my search for an exit so that we can assist Captain Kirk. Please be succinct."

McCoy's ears and cheeks reddened. "Forgive me," he spat, his words soaked in sarcasm. "You want succinct? I'll give you succinct: I have xenopolycythemia and I'll be _dead_ in a year. How's that for succinct, _huh_?"

To McCoy's surprise, Spock recoiled as if struck across the cheek. He froze, then. Stood completely still with rigid arms and legs. "You are dying?" he whispered. "That…That is…"

" _Inconvenient_?" McCoy mocked.

"No. _Yes_ ," Spock quickly redacted. The Vulcan cleared his throat and stared down at his boots. "Yes, adjusting to a new Chief Medical Officer will require time and energy I have not yet rationed and in that way, yes, your death will be problematic."

"Oh, for God's sake…" McCoy rubbed both eyes with the heels of his hands. "Worst bedside manner in the fleet…"

A beat of silence, and then:

"I will be severely cognizant of your absence."

Spock said the words so fast that McCoy almost missed them. It took him several moments to comprehend the meaning. Finally, he sputtered, "You mean—you mean you'll _miss me_?"

Spock opened his mouth to reply, but right then a light flashed through the room.

 **To Be Continued**


	2. Prime Ingredient, Part 2

**Hurt and Comfort in Starfleet**

An Anthology of "Star Trek" Stories

PenPatronus

Story #1

 **The Prime Ingredient, Part 2**

"Jim, what happened? Jim? _Jim_!" Kirk heard McCoy's voice as if through several feet of water. The woman, the empath, her hands scurried across his body. Warm fingertips swept across his face, his neck, his hands. At one point they disappeared and through the water Jim heard Bones again. "Help him!" the doctor begged. "Please. Don't be afraid. Don't be afraid!" Shoulders… Arms… Fingers… A tingling sensation replaced the pain in the wake of Gem's touch. Finally, he was conscious enough to focus, to see her mute screams as his injuries transferred to her. Wide, raw, red contusions covered her and then faded, and she collapsed.

Bones' healer's hands grounded him. He allowed the doctor to guide him into a comfortable position on the bench. Spock stood above the scene with a blank expression but warm, wild eyes that searched Jim for additional injuries. "Will she live?" Jim croaked.

"She seems fine now." Bones explained that Kirk was suffering from the bends, that Gem was a completely functional empath who connected their nervous systems, and he went into his theories about her instinct for self-preservation. Kirk only half-listened. Slowly his body reassured him that he was all right. He expected pain when he moved but not only was there none at that moment, but the memory of it had faded as well.

McCoy's posture was Jim's first clue. The doctor sat hunched over on the bench beside him and upon closer inspection, Kirk realized that Bones' face was extremely pale. " _Bones_." He grasped his friend's upper arm and flinched when he winced. "Bones, you don't look so good." He glanced at Spock and then bit his lower lip in thought. "Did, uh, did the Vians hurt you?"

McCoy gave Kirk a grateful smile. "I appreciate you guarding my privacy, Jim, but I already told Spock. Superior officers should be informed about the condition of every member of a landing party… or some crap like that."

Jim kept his hand on McCoy but rotated his head to look at Spock. "This was supposed to be a simple evacuation. I wouldn't have let him come if I knew we'd be down here this long, or in this much danger."

Spock cocked his head to the side. "You are defending actions that I have not questioned, Captain. There is no need to explain your command decisions at this time. However, between your weakened condition and the doctor's, I suggest we redouble our efforts to escape this prison."

Jim gave McCoy a last squeeze and then sighed as a wave of exhaustion flowed through him. New pain surged from the right side of his abdomen and his hands went there out of habit. He didn't need Bones to scan him again to know that one of his internal organs wasn't completely back to normal. When the twoVians reappeared, Spock stepped between them and his shipmates like a guard dog. He and McCoy let Kirk do all the talking as the aliens informed them that the captain would choose who would be tortured next. They left again without saying when they'd be back, leaving the three officers in limbo.

* * *

Spock didn't react when McCoy snuck up on Kirk and emptied the hypospray into his shoulder. Jim jumped like it was an attack. As he collapsed, his wide eyes searched out Spock's. "Don't let them take him," he begged, each word a slur of vowels. "They don't know he's already sick—he won't last long under that torture; he'll die for sure… _ **Bones**_ …" As Jim's eyes rolled back into his skull he muttered one last phrase that didn't make sense to the other two men. " _Spock, old friend, help us_ …"

"Thank you," Spock said to McCoy after Jim was asleep. "I am grateful to you for sparing him additional pain."

"Pain?" McCoy said as he refilled the hypo. "That pair of walking bald heads said one of us was next, not Jim."

"It is not physical pain to which I refer, Doctor," Spock said without looking up from his study of the Vians' device. "I meant the pain it would cause the captain to choose between us. Now the decision is mine."

McCoy finished the refill and stood up. He fought through the dizziness to give Spock his fiercest glare. "The decision is obvious. Damn you for making me say this but it's _logical_ , Spock, that I be the one to go. I'll be dead soon, anyway, so what damn difference does it make if I kick the proverbial bucket here?"

Any other time, in a less dangerous situation, the Vulcan would've wondered what kicking buckets had to do with death. Instead Spock continued to fiddle with the dials and read the symbols on a tiny screen. "You yourself reminded us that you are the inferior officer."

"Inferior? Why you green-blooded—"

"It is my duty as the superior officer to volunteer. Part of my job as a commander is to protect those in the lower ranks."

"Lower? Why you—" McCoy fisted his hands and raised his eyes to the ceiling. A few slow breaths calmed him down and he summoned all of the Spock-like rationale he had. "You'll die. It's a 93% chance that you'll die. You heard them."

"Incorrect, Doctor. There is a 93% chance that my brain will be permanently damaged. There is an 87% chance that you will die."

"Spock, you _are_ your brain! Comatose for the rest of your life is the same as being dead!"

"Doctor, this situation is quite simple. I have stated my orders and will not be dissuaded. And you will hand that hypospray over to me right now." With incomprehensible speed, Spock turned in his seat and grabbed the hypo centimeters before it plunged into his skin.

The furious fire in his eyes stunned McCoy like a phaser. "How—how did you know I would…?" he whispered.

Spock blinked once. "I know you." Spock yanked the hypospray out of McCoy's grip and set it on the seat out of reach. "And you, Dr. McCoy, are one of the most stubborn humans I have ever—"

A whooshing sound as the hypospray emptied. Spock whirled around and found Gem standing over him with a triumphant expression. " _No_ ," he whispered. Turning back to McCoy, he saw the same triumphant look there.

"Thanks, darling," McCoy said, winking at the empath. "You read my—not my mind… but if not my mind then, what? My heart? Anyway—thank you." She blushed and smiled.

"My decision…" Spock murmured. Mirage-like ripples in the corners of his eyes migrated towards the center. He didn't feel the doctor's arms around his torso, arranging his body into a comfortable position at Kirk's side. " _No_ … Doctor, no…"

"Shhh," McCoy soothed. "You have a nice nap, Spock." As the Vulcan's eyes slid shut, McCoy leaned over Spock's frame and whispered gently into his pointed ear, "This last year of my life would've been full of pain. More pain if I let you die here, because I would be so very cognizant of your absence."

When the Vians returned, McCoy said to Gem, "My friends will take care of you."

A single tear descended when he disappeared. It wasn't fear or sadness that the empath sensed from Leonard McCoy. She wept because the love he exuded in that moment for Jim and Spock was overwhelming.

* * *

"You want to take a shuttle through the solar storm to the planet's surface?" Scotty bellowed. "You're mad, mate. Mad Hatter-mad."

Spock Prime endured the engineer's spitting words with no reaction except for flaring nostrils. "The solar radiation will cause instrument failure in any spacecraft after approximately four minutes," he said loud enough for the entire bridge crew to hear. "At top speed, the shuttlecraft can travel to the surface in 3.75 minutes."

"That's assuming it's a straight shot from point A to B, and it doesn't account for the landing sequence," said Sulu.

"Once we are within the planet's atmosphere we will be protected from the radiation. Reaching the atmosphere will only take 3.70 minutes."

"That's still cutting it mighty close," Scotty said. He sighed and stood up from the captain's chair. "But, well… I'm in. Sulu, you have the con."

"As if you can pilot the shuttle that fast without ending up in the wrong solar system." Sulu stood. "I'm in. Chekhov, you take over."

"No," the Russian declared. "I will go as well. Uhura—"

"Come on!" Uhura was already on her way to the turbolift. "Let's go!"

* * *

McCoy's entire being screamed at the universe. Every cell, every emotion, and every thought that made him Leonard McCoy was stabbed, sliced, squashed, and stretched in every direction. Like a child grabbing at an ascending balloon, McCoy reached out for memories to sustain and distract him from the torture. Remembrances began to flow through him only to be ripped away the moment they brought him pleasure: chasing the family dogs through an open field in Georgia, helping his father deliver a newborn calf, winning drinking games in dive bars to pay for medical school, his honeymoon, the first time Joanna called him "daddy," getting his medical license, playing Poker with Jim and Uhura at the Academy, watching in awe as Spock made some impossible calculation that saved the _Enterprise_ , drinking Scotch with Scotty, teaching Chekov how to play pool, Sulu's patience as he taught Leonard how to fly a shuttlecraft, that first shore leave where he, Jim, and Spock went whitewater rafting and they all fell into the river…

Time passed. There was no way to tell how much. Eventually his daughter's face disintegrated—he couldn't remember what it looked like. He tried to imagine the texture of her hair but it was snatched away. Parts of himself were chipped off like flakes of ice. When the breaking point was within arm's reach he couldn't remember his own name…

The pain was choking the life out of his sanity.

And then some nameless force burrowed through the pain like a drill through miles of earth. What was left of Leonard McCoy welcomed it and, like a child chasing lightning bugs with a mason jar, wanted to keep the wild, untamable, fragile light forever. Something about it coaxed Leonard to wake up. It was a cushion against his cheek. It was a pair of crutches. And it was an alarm clock blaring in his ear, ordering him to get up and _fight_ …

 _Leonard_.

An accompanying voice, now. McCoy didn't remember how to talk, barely recalled existing in a body. Anything and everything was just pain. Except the voice. The voice that knew his name.

 _Spock_ …?

 _I am coming for you, old friend._

 _It hurts. Spock, I'm tired. I'm so tired…_

 _Remain strong, Doctor. Remain yourself._

 **To Be Continued**


	3. Prime Ingredient, Part 3

**Hurt and Comfort in Starfleet**

An Anthology of "Star Trek" Stories

PenPatronus

Story #1

 **The Prime Ingredient, Part 3**

When Kirk, Spock and Gem appeared in the Vians' lab, the captain's knees nearly buckled at the sight of his best friend hanging limply from the ceiling by his wrists. " _Bones_ ," Kirk whispered, appalled at the state of the doctor's clothes and the amount of blood. "Spock, help me." The pair moved forward as one. Jim immediately took McCoy's weight while Spock found the rope to release him. When McCoy was free of the shackles, Jim lifted his semiconscious friend into his arms, bridal-style. With Spock on his heels, Kirk carried the doctor to a nearby bench. "Oh no," Jim gasped, his fingers pressed against the inside of McCoy's wrist. "Spock, his pulse, it's almost gone."

Muscles twitched along Spock's jawline, betraying the emotions he tried to contain. The medical tricorder whirled to life in his right hand while his left gripped McCoy's arm, as if he would disappear then and there if the Vulcan didn't hold on. "Jim, his heart, lungs, circulation system, kidney, liver, spleen—everything is failing."

"We get him back to the ship," Jim thought out loud, his volume increasing with each syllable, "make for Starfleet HQ at maximum warp, find wherever they stashed Khan, get the blood for the cure—"

"No, Jim," McCoy suddenly croaked. Blue eyes blinked up at them through narrow slits. "It's too late." A thin trickle of blood raced downward from the corner of McCoy's cracked lips.

A noise halfway between a hiccup and a sob erupted from Kirk's throat. He grasped his friend's white cheeks with both palms. "Stay quiet, stay still," Jim urged. "We'll get you back to the ship soon, Bones. We'll get you home."

McCoy began to speak but a coughing fit seized him. His back arched, then propelled him upwards almost into a sitting position. Spock caught him before he fell at full speed. Supporting the back of McCoy's neck, the Vulcan gently eased the doctor back down onto the cushion and even when the coughing stopped, his hands didn't let go. Kirk forgotten, the Vians forgotten, everything else in the universe forgotten, Spock cradled McCoy in his arms and looked into his eyes—eyes that reminded him of Christopher Pike's seconds before he died…

McCoy stared back. "Would you look at that," he whispered. "You do have a good bedside manner, Spock."

The doctor had no higher praise to give. " _Leonard_." Spock's bottom lip trembled as if he was shivering from cold.

"It's ok." McCoy nodded at him, then turned his attention to Kirk. "Jim?"

Kirk took his old friend's cold hands. "I'm here."

"Is Gem here? I told her you'd watch out for her."

"Yeah, Bones." Kirk glanced back at the rest of the lab and spotted the empath huddled against an angled column. "Gem's here." At the sound of her new name, the woman looked at the threesome and revealed the tearstains on her face. She stood and approached hesitantly with the grace of someone stumbling in the dark.

"Wait, don't let her near me," Bones begged. Gem stretched out her arm between Kirk and Spock, and McCoy found the strength to wrench his hands out of the captain's grip and swat her away. "Jim, don't let her die, too."

A dozen emotions rippled through Kirk's facial expression. "If there's a chance she can save you—"

"Jim." Water seeped into McCoy's eyes and hovered there. "You know me. You _know_ me. I'm a doctor. I save lives. I can't take a life, even if it saves my own."

"She must be allowed to act," one of the Vians called to Kirk from behind them. "She saw how each of you was willing to sacrifice his life for the other. She saw your love—the prime ingredient of the worthy. The woman must prove she is compassionate."

"She just did!" a new voice echoed throughout the chamber. Everyone turned to see five figures emerge from the darkness. Spock Prime stood at the front of the group while Uhura and Scotty covered his left and Sulu and Chekov his right.

"Spock!" Kirk gasped, shocked.

The Ambassador moved forward so fluidly that his long black robe barely swung. "You just witnessed her willingness to help the doctor, to die for him. She has proven that her people are worthy of survival."

The Vians exchanged wide-eyed looks. "Where did you come from? How did you find—"

"Your experiment is complete," Spock basically bellowed. "The doctor's death no longer serves you, so now you must prevent it."

Leonard shifted his head so that he could see the scene. "About damn time he got here," he croaked only loud enough for Kirk and the younger Spock to hear. "Tired of him…squawking in…my mind…" McCoy sighed. Another coughing fit zapped the remainder of his energy. His body went limp under Jim and Spock's hands. He frowned. His eyes dilated. "Jim… Spock… I can't see you…" The words were little more than exhales. Bones went still.

Jim grappled for his friend's wrist again. "Spock, his heart stopped!" he shouted to the elderly Vulcan.

Spock Prime straightened to his full height. His dark eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. "Heal him," he ordered the Vians. "There is one more thing you must prove. You must prove to yourselves that, like Gem, you have compassion. Prove it by healing our friend!"

The Vians hesitated. The way they looked at each other implied a telepathic conversation. Finally, the taller of the pair approached the bench and took the device back from Spock. The crew gathered around and watched, astonished, as the visible lacerations and contusions covering McCoy's body slowly faded under the alien technology. The heartbeat returned. After a full minute passed, one of the wrinkles in the Vian's forehead became more pronounced. "Speak your thoughts," Spock Prime encouraged him.

The Vian had the decency to look regretful. "I have done all that I can. Your friend's mind has retreated from the residual pain to a place I cannot reach. He is in a coma, a coma so deep that he may never wake up."

A teary-eyed, red-faced Kirk sprang forward as if to throttle the alien. He would've if young Spock hadn't wrapped his arms around his abdomen like a vice. If was the elder Spock who got him to stand down when he held his hand out, palm-side up, in a gesture to stop. "Thank you," he said with sincerity. "I will take it from here. I believe you and Gem have an urgent task of your own."

"We do indeed," said the short Vian. The aliens gestured for Gem to follow. She did, but only after leaning over McCoy's still form to place a chaste kiss on his sweaty forehead. She nodded at Kirk, smiled at both Spock's, and then followed the Vians into the shadows.

"Allow me," Ambassador Spock said when Kirk leaned over to pick up McCoy. Although the weight obviously strained him, the old Vulcan managed to scoop Leonard up into his arms. A new look appeared on his face when the doctor's cheek rested against his chest—a look resembling affection. "Remain strong, old friend," he whispered as he led the way back to the surface, and the waiting shuttle. "I will find you. Wherever you have gone, I will find you."

 **To Be Continued**


	4. Prime Ingredient, Part 4

**Author's Notes:** Wow—it took me six tries and twice as many hours to figure out this chapter! Hopefully what it lacks in subtlety it makes up for in revelations. Please review!

 **Hurt and Comfort in Starfleet**

An Anthology of "Star Trek" Stories

PenPatronus

Story #1

 **The Prime Ingredient, Part 4**

Only four men inhabited the quiet, dimly-lit _Enterprise_ medbay. The staff had cleaned the comatose McCoy up, dressed him in comfortable light-blue scrubs and arranged him on a biobed with a red blanket up to his bellybutton. Jim Kirk stood on McCoy's right with his arms crossed tight against the fresh gold uniform on his chest. Commander Spock stood at the foot of the bed with his fingers laced behind his back and his shoulders sagging. Spock Prime was on the opposite side with his fingertips plastered to Leonard's face. "The Vians not only cured the tortures they inflicted upon him," Prime reported, "but the xenopolycythemia as well."

"Oh," Jim exhaled. He braced his hands against the biobed mattress and bowed his head. "Oh, thank God."

"However…" The elder Vulcan exchanged looks with the younger. "I cannot wake him up."

Jim's head snapped back up. " _What_?"

The ambassador's eyes were bloodshot, adding a green tinge to the dark pupils. "Imagine that you are hurt and alone in the dark. A voice calls to you—a voice that claims to be your friend, but it does not sound quite right. Jim, Leonard's mind is entombed in a feral state of agony, fear, and distrust. When he hears my voice he thinks I am an imposter, another one of the Vians' tricks." Prime caressed McCoy's white cheek with the back of his hand. "It's your voice he needs to hear in order to wake up. Yours and Spock's. _His_ Spock."

Water sparkled in Jim's eyes. He opened his mouth to speak then and there, directly into his friend's ear, but then he saw Spock's posture shift in his peripheral vision. The young Vulcan leaned his weight backwards but didn't quite step away from the bed. "I have…" Spock cleared his throat and coughed against his fist. "I have never performed a Bridging of Minds."

Spock Prime pursed his lips and stared fondly at Leonard's face.

"Bridge of—What's that?" Jim asked.

"A type of mind meld," Commander Spock explained. "Instead of two minds merging, there are three."

"Three?" Jim clutched Leonard's sleeve so hard that his knuckles turned white. "You, McCoy, and me? So that, uh, he'll hear both of our voices?"

"Precisely."

Jim didn't hesitate. "Let's do it. I'm ready. Let's go." The Vulcan suddenly turned his back and began to pace across the medbay, nostrils flaring and one hand tugging on the fingers of the other. Jim pivoted so that he faced his first officer head on. "Spock, if I didn't know better, I'd say you look scared."

Half a minute passed before the commander returned to the biobed. With his eyes fixed on his twin he said, "I cannot do it. I will not."

"What?" Jim bellowed.

Spock Prime blinked. "You must," he whispered.

"Why won't you do it?" Jim demanded. "Spock?"

"I will not risk it. I will not risk _him_."

Spock Prime left Leonard's side and walked around the biobed. "It is the only way to save McCoy."

"I saw Jim die once. Do not make me watch it again."

Jim's gaze darted back and forth between the two Vulcans. "Um, why am I dying?"

"Can you bear to watch Leonard die?" Spock Prime whispered.

Emotion erupted from Jim with the force of a volcano. "You two better start making sense or I'm going to rip your pointed ears off!" he shouted.

Both Vulcans turned to him. "Jim," the younger began, "the Bridging of Minds is risky even for Vulcans who have successfully performed it before."

"Risky even when all three minds are conscious," the elder agreed. "Risky even when all three are healthy. Leonard's mind is saturated with the memory of the Vians' tortures. When you meld with it you will feel the same pain."

"I-I don't care," Jim sputtered. "I can handle it."

"It is more than that." Commander Spock rubbed his eyes as he spoke. "Jim, this technique requires discipline I doubt I possess. For me it will be like trying to juggle all three of our minds. If I "drop" yours, or Leonard's, I could cause permanent brain damage that…" Spock forced himself to meet his captain's eyes. "Jim, it could kill you. I will not risk that. Not even for McCoy."

"Sounds like it's my choice to make," Jim said between clenched teeth. "If there's a Tribble's chance in space that it will save Bones, then let's do it."

Spock looked pleadingly at his duplicate. "You told me once that it is Jim's friendship that will define me. You urged me to remain in Starfleet so that he and I would not be deprived of each other!"

Spock Prime placed his hands on Spock and Kirk's shoulders. "What I should have said that day is that your friendship with Jim will define you, but it is your friendship with Leonard McCoy that will make you _whole_."

Spock's eyebrows descended slightly. "I do not understand."

"You will. Come. Come here." Spock Prime moved back to McCoy with Kirk on his left and Spock on his right. "You must listen to this. Both of you. Each of the three of you has strengths. Each of you has weaknesses. Few men are fortunate enough to meet friends who compliment him so well that his weakness is balanced by the other's strength. Separately with your courage, your logic, and your passion, each of you is a decent man. Together, you are _remarkable_." Gently, Prime placed Spock's hand on Leonard's chest with Jim's hand beside it. "You must be together, balancing each other as if you were one being. Jim the soul, Spock the mind, and McCoy—"

Spock felt the organ thumping beneath his fingertips. He closed his eyes as if in prayer.

"The heart," Jim croaked around a choked-up throat. He swallowed and blinked away the water in his eyes. "What's with you people and metaphors, huh?"

Spock Prime waited patiently for Spock to meet his eyes. "Like Jim, Leonard is so very, very precious to me," he said. "Gem knew that he was worth dying for. Jim knows. Do you?"

Right then, alarms started squawking above the biobed. Three pairs of eyes scanned the readings. Three faces paled when they understood what was happening. "Bones hates it when we fight," Jim said faintly.

Spock Prime stepped aside. "Do it now, Spock. You must do it now."

Jim held his hands up as if in surrender. "What do I do? What do you need me to do?"

Spock's fingers were already on Leonard's face. "Hold still, Jim," he begged. "Just hold still and stay with me."

Fingertips connected, and Jim felt himself disappear.

 **To Be Continued**


	5. Prime Ingredient, Part 5

**Hurt and Comfort in Starfleet**

An Anthology of "Star Trek" Stories

PenPatronus

Story #1

 **The Prime Ingredient, Part 5**

Spock's fingers landed against Kirk's temple like a falcon's claws on its' prey.

One moment, Jim was standing in the medbay, clutching McCoy's sleeve with both hands.

The next moment, he was standing on green grass. A river churned nearby and sunlight greeted them. Spock stood beside him. Ahead, kneeling on the ground between them and the river, was a young boy no older than eight or nine. He wore a blue shirt—a Starfleet uniform, Jim realized. And he was jabbing a needle into a doll.

"Curious," Spock whispered, his voice strained like he was fighting back a cough.

The doll had short brown hair and wore a purple gown. "Hold still, Gem," the little boy said to it. "Surgery's almost over."

"Are we… Is this…?" Jim examined his own palms. "Spock, is this real?"

"We have successfully merged with Leonard's mind, Jim. We occupy the same space as his consciousness."

"Lenny!" a new voice bellowed. A girl appeared on the opposite side of the river. She was a couple years older than the boy, and nearly a foot taller. She stamped her feet and folded her arms close to her chest. "Give me my doll back—now!" she hollered.

"You said she was sick!" the boy shouted back. "I'm playing doctor! I fixed her for you!"

The girl noticed the balls of fluff scattered across the grass. She recoiled like it was blood. "You broke my Gem! I'm telling your mom on you right now!" The girl stormed off.

"She's all better!" he called. He turned his attention back to the doll. "You won't feel pain anymore," he whispered to it.

"Jim." Kirk turned towards Spock and was surprised to see a layer of sweat on his forehead. "I have little experience with mind melds. I am unsure how long I can maintain the Bridge. We must speak to him."

Kirk looked back and forth between the Vulcan and the boy. "Talk to the kid? That's Bones' consciousness?"

Spock was dangerously close to rolling his eyes. "You know that is him," he said.

"He's a child!"

"Perhaps, in his fear, he has retreated into this version of himself because it is safe, and far away from the Vians that wounded him. Here, he feels no pain. Fortunately, because of that, neither do we." A tendon in Spock's neck vibrated. "Jim, hurry. If this takes too long, I could lose you both."

"We've only been here, what, two minutes?"

Spock shook his head. His lips were thin. "Judging by the strain in my arms, I suspect that it has been hours, Jim. Gauging time is difficult in a mind meld."

"Crap!" Kirk took a deep breath, and then approached the boy with Spock only a couple steps behind him. "Bones?" he called. When the child seemed not to hear him, he tried, "Leonard?"

Startled, the boy dropped the doll. There was enough of a hill, and enough momentum that the toy kept rolling until it toppled over the lip of the riverbed and splashed into the water. "Oh, no!" boy-Leonard gasped. "My cousin is going to kill me!" He sprinted forward, and would've dived in if Jim hadn't grabbed him around the waist.

"I have to help her!" Leonard cried, punching tiny fists against Jim's strong biceps. "I have to help them all! I'm a doctor, dammit!"

"Bones— _Bones_!" Kirk fell on his backside with the child wrapped up in his arms. "You did help, remember? Now you're the one who needs help! Bones, you're in a coma! Dammit, you're in a coma and you have to wake up— _Bones_!"

"No— _No_!" The child fought back even harder. Jim took an elbow to the Adam's apple and Spock got kicked in the ankle. "I want to stay here!"

"Geeze, I don't know what I was expecting Bones' brain to be like but…" Jim sniffed. He smelled smoke. He whirled around when he felt heat on the back of his neck. The sparse forest surrounding the river was suddenly on fire. Jim yelped and sprung backwards towards the water, and dragged Spock and McCoy with him. "Shit!" he grunted.

The kid suddenly went still in Jim's arms. "It's coming," he whispered.

Spock knelt on one knee so that he was face to face with Leonard. "What is coming?" he asked gently.

"Pain," Leonard whispered, his eyes full of water. "Danger. I've been running for it. I ran all the way back here."

The fire inched closer. It stretched to infinity in every direction but theirs. "It's not there," Jim insisted. "There's no more pain, Bones. We got you out of that lab. Even your xenopolycythemia is cured. Listen to me. You're in a coma right now, on the _Enterprise_ , and when you wake up you won't be in pain, ok? I swear, Bones. I swear the pain is over." Child-McCoy aged before their eyes, morphing into a teenager. He relaxed in Jim's grip. "That's it, Bones," Jim whispered. "Come back to us."

The fire inched even closer. All three of them could feel the heat now. Spock situated his body in front of Leonard's so that he blocked the sight of it. "Doctor, you must wake up now. Do you understand? You must wake up."

Teenage-Leonard transformed into a young adult. The years started to pick up speed and within seconds, he was his proper age again, but still sprawled out in the grass like a child, now grasping onto Jim for dear life. "The fire's still coming," he whispered in a voice like shifting gravel.

Jim rested his chin on the doctor's shoulder. "Face the fire, Bones," he said. "You'll die if you stay here."

"I'll die out there," Bones argued. "It was xenopolycythemia yesterday, bald telepaths today, God-knows-what tomorrow. Space is disease and danger, Jim, and all I've got is my bones."

"No." Jim squeezed him. "You've got us. And if you come with us, yes, there's danger, but if you stay here, you'll die."

Another layer of sweat covered Spock's forehead, and Jim could tell that it wasn't just from the heat on his heels. "Come with us now, Leonard." The Vulcan held his hand out for Bones to take. "Make the choice."

Doctor Leonard McCoy hesitated for only a second before he clasped his friend's hand. "I choose the danger."

As if those words were some sort of magic spell, Kirk suddenly found himself back in the medbay with a terrible crick in his neck and an ache in his lower back. He immediately sat down on the side of the bed and stretched his arms out. On the other side, Spock groaned and sank to his knees. Ambassador Spock glided out of Jim's peripheral vision and with a quiet whoosh of the doors, he left the threesome alone.

"Jim…?"

Jim leapt back up to his feet. McCoy's bright eyes were open and brimming with questions. Kirk plastered his palms to his own face and rubbed his skin down to his neck. "Oh, thank—" His last word was muffled by Leonard's shirt when he hugged him.

Half a minute passed. Spock must have regained his composure because a sturdy, steady hand landed on Kirk's back and stayed there. Another cupped Leonard's chin. It trembled slightly.

No words needed to be said. The men just basked in relief, all three defined and made whole.

 **The End**


	6. Khan's Revenge

**Author's Notes:** Hi! This story didn't disappear, it just went on hiatus for a little while. Here it is - finished! If you like it, kindly give me $5 or one review. -PenPatronus-

 **Hurt and Comfort in Starfleet  
** An Anthology of "Star Trek" Stories  
PenPatronus  
Story #2  
 **Khan's Revenge**

 _STARBASE YORKTOWN  
_ _2 MONTHS AFTER "STAR TREK: BEYOND"_

Yorktown's artificial lighting had just finished mimicking a Terran sundown when Spock arrived at Jim Kirk's temporary quarters. The Vulcan set a wooden bowl of food in the center of the table—food that smelled to Kirk like burnt toast. Jim finished placing the last table setting, and stared at the bowl. He held up his middle and forefinger and said, "Two questions—"

"Those are thorns, not fangs," Spock said, gesturing at the blue, kiwi-shaped food that appeared to have a jaw. "It is customary to remove the longest thorn first and then use it, instead of traditional utensils, to eat the fruit."

Jim dropped his hand. "Answer to question number one: it's fruit. Answer to question number two: it doesn't have teeth. You answered both questions before I even asked them, Mr. Spock."

Spock cocked an eyebrow, betraying that he felt pleased with himself. "And I have two questions for you, Captain."

Jim sat at the round table and poured himself a brandy. "Let me try. First, yes, I got a haircut, thanks for noticing. Second, Bones is bringing the main course and, no, it's not vegetarian. I guess I answered three questions." Kirk took a sip and waggled his eyebrows. "Well?"

Spock sat in the seat opposite. "My first question, Captain, was regarding the sauces in your kitchen. I'm told that this particular fruit goes well with Terran mustard." Kirk made a face. Briefly, Spock wondered if the warped frown meant that Jim was disappointed at his incorrect guess, or if he disliked the notion of dipping fruit in mustard. "My second question was regarding the events in San Francisco last week. I assume you heard about the terrorist attack?"

"I heard there weren't any casualties, Starfleet or civilian."

"Indeed. However, Lieutenant Uhura overheard Commodore Paris receiving a briefing. It seems that the explosion was merely a diversion. Parties unknown accessed and copied a year's worth of Starfleet Captains' logs—including your own."

Jim lifted his glass to his lips, hesitated, and then took a long drink. "Even the classified entries?" Spock nodded once. "Well, shit."

"This is an unprecedented security breach, Captain. It is yet unclear who the thieves are or what they intend to do with such information."

"Well, we should join the investigation," Jim declared. "Oh, wait, the _Enterprise_ is dead." Spock winced at the captain's sarcasm. Jim cleared his throat. "Let's not talk shop, Spock. That's the one rule when you, Bones, and I have dinner. That, and we leave our ranks at the door."

Spock shrugged slightly. "The doctor has not yet arrived, Captain, therefore I assumed that your rules were not yet in effect." When Kirk glared daggers at him, Spock poured himself some water and settled deeper into his chair. "All right, I will not 'talk shop.' Jim, I see that the hair on your skull is shaped differently—"

Double doors whooshed open and Leonard McCoy burst into the room. "Sorry I'm late," he said. "Also, sorry that I didn't make the casserole. Extra sorry that I can't stay." He picked up one of the blue kiwis, glanced around, and frowned. "Where's the mustard?"

"Hello to you too, Bones. And what do you mean you can't stay?" Jim demanded. "Since we've been stranded on Yorktown we only see each other once a week!"

"Stranded?" McCoy huffed. "You're the only one of the crew who feels stranded, Jim."

"It will take time for the engineers to finish building the _Enterprise_ -A," said Spock. "Estimated time to completion is four months, six days, 13 hours."

"Actually, Scotty and his team have joined them, so I bet we'll be out of here in half that time."

"Hmm," Spock hummed. "Two months, three days—"

"Thank you, Spock," Jim growled between clenched teeth. "Bones, why are you leaving?"

"Medical mission. Just got the word. Got a shuttle loaded up like a damn interstellar M*A*S*H unit." Jim glanced at Spock and was slightly relieved to see that he didn't get what he assumed to be an old-Earth reference, either. Meanwhile, McCoy ripped off a row of the fruit's thorn-fangs and dumped them on Spock's cloth napkin. "Half of the MDs in Yorktown have been summoned to the northeast space dock. Bunch of civilians are sick on some new starbase and their doc is, well, not particularly helpful."

"The physician was unable to diagnose the disease?" Spock asked.

"Didn't get much of a chance to try. She's dead. Twenty have died in the past four days. A hundred more will in the next week if we can't figure this damn thing out." McCoy took a bite of the fruit. Blue juices slithered down his chin and he wiped them on his uniform sleeve. "I, of course, am the only doctor on this snow globe with any experience at diagnosing alien diseases. The kids in these medical bays don't know the difference between a Horta and a Cardassian." McCoy finished his fruit and turned to leave. "I'll see you when I get back."

"This new starbase…It's not the Regula class prototype, is it?" Jim quietly asked.

McCoy froze at the door. "Yeah, as a matter of fact, it is. Why?"

"Have the casualties been posted yet?" Jim crossed the room and activated a computer on his desk. "Do we have a list of who's sick—there it is." Names scrolled across the monitor and Jim scanned them quickly, his bright blue eyes flickering left to right.

Spock and McCoy exchanged a concerned glance. The pair joined Jim at the terminal and waited patiently for him to find, or not find, whatever name he expected. After half a minute, Jim gasped. McCoy grabbed the back of his arm. "What is it, Jim? Who do you know there?"

Kirk faced them. "What did I tell you when Dr. Carol Marcus resigned her commission from Starfleet and left the _Enterprise_?"

McCoy frowned. "You said she had some cockamamie terraforming idea. Some private scientific organization offered her a lab, right?"

Spock observed the lines of tension in his captain's face. "You were not honest with us."

"No," Jim corrected, "I wasn't _completely_ honest with you. She left to work on that project, yes, but that isn't the only reason why she left. She left _Enterprise_ because, in her words, because a starship in uncharted deep space is no place for a…for a baby."

Bones' jaw dropped. "Carol was _pregnant_? Why didn't she tell me? As the Chief Medical Officer, I should've been informed—she should've had a formal, official exam right away—"

"Doctor," Spock said quietly, and in that rare tone of voice that actually made Leonard McCoy shut up, "I suspect that Jim is trying to tell us that the child is his."

"What?" Bones' jaw dropped another inch. "Is it true, Jim?" Kirk didn't meet his gaze. "Well, I'll be…"

"I couldn't leave the _Enterprise_ ," Jim whispered, "and she couldn't stay. So, we parted ways—amicably for the most part, but, we didn't stay in touch. I know his name but I haven't even seen a picture…" Jim pointed at the computer. "Carol and my son are alive," he said, "but they're both listed as ill. Bones…I want to come with you. Is there room for one more on that medical shuttle?"

"Jim, you're James T. Kirk! They'll make room. I can't believe you didn't tell us— _us_ —that you had a son…But, Jim, are you sure this is how you should reconnect with her after, what, almost three years? I doubt this will be a fun reunion."

Kirk rubbed his head and paced between the terminal and the window. "Nothing I'm doing on Yorktown can't wait a few days. I should be with them. There are some situations where you should just, you know, _be_ there, right?"

McCoy glanced at Spock, and a wordless communication passed between them.

Spock stood up straight and clasped his hands behind his back. "With your permission, Captain, I volunteer to accompany you and the doctor on this mission."

Kirk gave his friends a grateful smile. "I've never been in space without you two by my side. I'd hate to go anywhere without you now. Thank you, Spock."

"By the way, what's the little rug rat's name?" Bones asked. "Don't say it's 'Tiberius.'"

Kirk slid his hands into his pants pockets and stared at the floor. "Carol and I went through a lot of names. We looked for…patterns. Matches. People in our lives who had the same name, people we'd like to honor. It turns out that her best friend's father's name was David, too."

Leonard's lips parted and he whispered, "Oh." He cleared his throat and thumped his fist against his chest. "My pa would've been honored, Jim. Imagine that… David Kirk."

"David _Marcus_ , actually," Jim said with a shrug. "I had to make some compromises…I did choose the _Enterprise_ over her, over them…Wasn't about to argue about the surname…" A cloud seemed to pass over Jim's face. "You can save them, right, Bones?"

Leonard grasped Jim's shoulder. "You know I'll do my best, Jim."

"Let us not waste additional time," Spock said, and he led the group into the corridor at a jog.

* * *

The day it took the Yorktown shuttle to reach the Starbase was both the longest and the shortest 24 hours of Jim's life. As Captain of the _Enterprise_ , he'd endured more than his fair share of stressful situations. But, somehow, the anxiety he felt during battles and first contacts and diplomatic debates didn't compare to the prospect of meeting his kid for the first time. As they docked, Kirk wondered if he should've brought a stuffed teddy bear for his son and a bouquet of flowers for his ex-lover. He was so deep in his thoughts that the shuttle full of 30 doctors and medics had emptied without him noticing, leaving Spock and McCoy staring from the door.

"I'm coming," Jim said before they could question his hesitation. He stood up and marched past them without making eye contact.

The three men were only just out of the docking bay when the hallway exploded.

A wall of flame engulfed the medics and doctors ahead of them, and their screams went quiet so fast that Jim knew they were already dead. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy were catapulted back against the wall. Jim hit his head and consciousness briefly fled. When he opened his eyes less than a minute later, he found himself staring at a rivulet of green blood flowing from Spock's temple. The Vulcan lay on his back on Jim's left, unconscious, but fingers twitching. From his stomach, Jim did half a pushup, then collapsed back down again. Although it hurt like hell, he managed to rotate his head to the right, and blink through the thickening smoke. McCoy lay on his side, arms outstretched, blood on half his face and a third-degree burn on his neck. Kirk couldn't tell if he was breathing. Red lights flashed and alarms wailed.

"Bones," Jim coughed. "Spock— _Bones_!"

Footsteps approached. Jim heard the distinct sound of someone emptying a fire extinguisher. Flames receded. Buttons clicked and the corridor went silent. Black boots landed in front of Kirk's nose. Jim looked up as the stranger knelt down.

Black hair. Pale skin. Pointed nose. Smug smile. Jim couldn't believe it.

Khan Noonien Singh grinned at him. "Your son has your eyes," he said, a second before his fist hit Kirk's jaw.

Jim watched through hazy, half-closed eyes as Khan fisted his left hand around Spock's collar and his right around both Kirk and McCoy's. Jim's skull and shoulder bumped against Leonard's, and the doctor groaned. Relief sent a trickling sensation down Jim's spine. At least McCoy was alive. "Section 31 didn't end with Admiral Marcus," Khan said as he dragged the three limp officers down an adjacent corridor. "The feeble security guarding that warehouse where you archived the cryo tubes was easily fooled when 31 replaced me with a doppelganger. Resurrected once more."

Jim tried to get his feet under him but he was too dizzy. Three trails of blood stained the hard, cold floor as Jim, Spock, and Bones were hauled across it. Two trails were red. One was green.

"As we speak," Khan continued with the detachment of a stranger commenting on the weather, "Section 31 agents are smuggling out the rest of the crew of the S.S. Botany Bay. Soon all of my friends will be free. We will infiltrate every level of Starfleet. Under my leadership, Section 31 will be unstoppable." Double doors opened before them. Jim couldn't see the room they were entering, but judging by the scent of almonds and antiseptic, it had to be the starbase's medical bay.

"And yet, after all the victories, after everything I've accomplished, the memory of my defeat at your hands still haunts me, Captain Kirk. How could I move forward with you and Spock alive and thriving?" Khan let go of their uniforms. Jim braced himself enough to keep from hitting his head on the floor, but he couldn't protect Spock and Bones from slamming down flat on their backs. Spock flinched at the contact. His nose wrinkled, and Jim spotted his eyes rolling beneath their lids. "So, I hacked into the Captains' logs," said Khan. "I discovered that you were marooned at Yorktown with no _Enterprise_ to shield you. And I discovered that Dr. Carol Marcus was here—here with your son."

Kirk managed to roll over onto his stomach. There were five beds in the small, dimly lit medical bay. Four of them were empty. Kirk blinked until the rest of the room came completely into focus. What he interpreted only as a blonde figure morphed clearly into Carol Marcus. "Oh, no," he whispered.

Khan jutted his chin out. His normally dark, shark-eyes sparkled. "I snuck onto this starbase, killed the crew, and lied to Yorktown about an incurable disease. I knew you'd come running. And I knew you'd bring your first officer and your chief medical officer with you. It's a good thing you did, Kirk, because the two remaining survivors of Regula need some medical care. Especially the child."

Carol stood hunched over the last table where a boy, blond, and perhaps 2 years old, lay still. Carol rested her cheek against her son's forehead, made eye contact with Kirk, and whispered, "Jim?"

Kirk gathered his strength for a few words. "I'm here, Carol."

Kirk couldn't completely see the child from his position on the floor, but the parts of skin he could were bruised and caked in dry blood. Carol looked only slightly better. Her blonde hair was dirty with ash and her left cheek was burned. "Jim, he's dying," Carol sobbed. Trembling mother's hands scuttled across the boy's body. "David's dying, Jim."

Jim fought his way up to his knees. "I'm here," he repeated helplessly. "And Bones—Bones is here, Carol. And I'm…I'm so sorry," he sniffed.

Khan approached. His muscles bulged under his black, long-sleeved uniform when he crossed his arms tight against his chest. Black boots poked McCoy in the ribs. "Your doctor doesn't appear to be capable of healing anyone, Captain. So, before I kill you, you will watch your son slowly die. That is the best and only way to make you truly suffer. And suffer, you will."

Carol leaned across her son and hugged him as tears plopped onto his chest.

McCoy suddenly stirred. The doctor coughed, and a trickle of blood ran down his cheek. "Jim?" he groaned. Bones rolled onto his side. "What the hell happened— _Ah_!" When he tried to brace himself with his right hand, his wrist crumpled under the weight. Jim had seen enough broken bones to be able to tell that McCoy's wrist was shattered. " _Dammit_!" Bones' left hand went to cushion his chest. "Ribs broken, too. Jim, what…" McCoy's curious eyes took in the room and his jaw dropped at the sight of Khan. "I'm dreaming, right?" he whispered.

Khan flashed a maniacal grin. "Glad you could join us, Dr. McCoy. I'd prefer you to be conscious when your captain watches me strangle you to death."

McCoy didn't rise to the bait. He was busy examining Jim and Spock's injuries. "Jim, you're burned pretty bad."

"So are you," Kirk croaked. He cocked his head at the table beyond. "Bones, you remember Dr. Marcus. And there's…That's my son."

Bones blinked up at Carol. The doctor's eyes instantly narrowed in on the child's injuries like a hawk on its prey. He glared at Khan, ignoring the fresh blood coming from his own temple and his nostrils. "Let me go to the boy," he demanded. When Khan merely blinked, Bones sat up straight and fumed at him. "You're going to kill us all anyway, right? For the love of God, man, that's my best friend's son. At least let me relieve his pain."

Khan chuckled briefly. "I'll tell you what, Doctor. If you can, despite your injuries, manage to lift yourself up, make it to the bed, and manipulate the equipment all on your own without, of course, using it to help yourself, I will allow it." Khan crouched and braided his fingers together. "I'm betting you won't make it three feet."

McCoy's eyes flashed. He had the same look on his face as he did whenever Spock combated his opinions with emotionless logic. "You're on, buster."

"Leonard," a new voice spoke. All eyes in the room whiplashed towards Spock who lay, still unmoving, but with wide-open eyes. Green blood stained his lips. "Leonard, I count five lacerations on your arms, and twice as many square inches of third-degree burns on your legs. Your wrist and ribs are broken. Based on your physical condition, I calculate the probability that you will be able to perform the necessary treatment on David Marcus to be 12%."

Khan moved to the Vulcan at superhuman speed. To Kirk and McCoy's horror, he towered over Spock and placed a boot against his throat. Spock's eyes widened. A strangled gasp replaced any words he tried to speak. "Let's make this even more interesting, Doctor," Khan hissed. "If you don't race to that boy's side in the next sixty seconds, Mr. Spock will be the first of you to die."

McCoy bared his clenched teeth not unlike a cornered animal. "Damn you," he hissed. "I'm a doctor, not an Olympian."

Khan plunged his shoe harder against Spock's fragile throat. "The countdown has begun, Doctor."

Bones' eyes briefly met Jim's, and Kirk was astounded at the ferocious strength he saw in them. McCoy didn't waste another second. With a tremendous force of will that Jim never considered McCoy would possess, the doctor edged his feet beneath him, pushed off the floor with his left hand, and stumbled forward. Immediately, he teetered. Half a moment later he collapsed hard onto his left knee. A single cry of pain preceded hitched, wheezing breaths. Bones spat blood across his own shoe. He glanced back at Spock, and the two old friends made eye contact. Sweat poured down Leonard's skin and he paled in the wake of it. Spock's face was slowly turning green.

Bones took a deep breath. He heaved himself up again. Three feet later he collapsed once more—this time on all fours.

"Come on, Bones," Kirk whispered encouragingly. "Bones, come on— _come on_!" Spock squirmed under Khan's weight.

Leonard lifted his chin. Blinking eyes stared at David's white face. The doctor started to crawl.

Khan cocked his head to the side. "Impressive," he said. He let up his pressure on Spock's throat. "You almost make me want to root for you, Doctor."

Bones didn't reply. He made it to the bed and used it to pull himself back up onto his feet. At Khan's command, Carol reluctantly stepped back. She held onto her son's hand as long as she could before letting it drop. Bones activated the biobed's sensors. Lights turned on and machines whirled to life. McCoy passed a medical tricorder across David's body. "He's bleeding internally," the doctor announced, his voice vibrating like he was shivering in a blizzard. "Punctured spleen…Skull fracture…Third degree burns on 15% of his body…" Leonard struggled to remain upright. He braced his right elbow against the slim mattress and put his wounded right hand to work with a dermal regenerator. "Carol, I have to do surgery right now, and I doubt our captor here is going to let me even scrub up. I don't have to tell you this is risky. My hands aren't exactly steady at the moment."

Carol's wet eyes met Jim's. "Do whatever you can, Dr. McCoy," she whispered.

Bones sighed. He looked at Kirk. Repeating his words from 24 hours before, he whispered, "I'll do my best, Jim."

Affection for his friend warmed Kirk's heart. "I know you will, Bones."

* * *

Nyota Uhura's red skirt flapped behind her as she sprinted through Yorktown. Sulu, Chekov, and Scotty were already waiting outside of Commodore Paris' office. Each asked why she'd summoned them, but she ignored them all and burst through the doors unannounced. "Ma'am, Captain Kirk's party is in trouble," she informed the surprised woman sitting behind a desk. "Request permission to take a shuttle to the Regula starbase."

Paris lowered a digital logbook and blinked at the intruders. "Lieutenant, this is Yorktown, not a space dock. We don't have a lot of long-range shuttles to spare. And even if we did, what makes you think that Kirk's in trouble? I would've been informed immediately if we'd received a distress signal."

Uhura put her hands on her hips, hesitated, and then clasped her hands behind her back. "Commander Spock was supposed to contact me precisely three hours after they arrived."

Paris looked at the ceiling as she calculated the time in her head. "You think they're in trouble because Commander Spock is late by… _10 minutes_?"

Uhura swallowed. "Yes, ma'am. I tried to contact them but got no response from the shuttle or from Regula."

Paris leaned back in her chair and folded her arms against her chest. "Has it occurred to you, Uhura, that your boyfriend is simply busy helping with the emergency?"

Uhura blushed and bristled, but kept her cool. "He's a Vulcan, ma'am," she said, as if that explained everything.

"Aye, he's as punctual as they come," Scotty piped up.

"And he would never lie, or forget," Chekov reminded them.

"Or break a promise—to any of us," said Sulu. "If he's late, it's because he's in trouble. Uhura's right to be concerned, Commodore."

Paris rolled her eyes. " _It's been 10 minutes_!" She waved a hand at them. "Out. All of you. Now."

"But—"

"Try to contact them again," Paris ordered. "If you still don't hear from them in an hour, we can talk about some options."

"And what if they're in trouble?" Uhura exclaimed. "It would take us 24 hours to reach them. We should leave now just in case—"

"Out." Paris picked up her log and returned her attention to it. "That's an order, Lieutenant."

Uhura slammed her fists against her hips and turned on her heels. The boys parted, then marched after her. They huddled up once they were alone. "Scotty," Uhura said, "tell me there's a portable transwarp beaming device somewhere on this base."

"I doubt it, lassie," Scotty said. "You know those things are illegal. And Starfleet confiscated the formula ages ago."

Uhura moved into Scotty's personal space—nose to nose. "The formula that you still have _memorized_ , right?"

Scotty gave her a sideways smile. "The chief who runs the transporter room in subsection 19 of sector K owes me a favor. I bet we could have it to ourselves for as long as we need."

Sulu clasped Chekov's shoulder. "We'll stock up at the armory and meet you there."

Uhura nodded her approval. "Hurry."

* * *

Leonard McCoy rubbed his eyes against his sleeve to clear the sweat. He looked up at the biobed readings and had to blink for a solid ten seconds before he could read the numbers. David's blood pressure was back up and his heartbeat was finally stable. Leonard's heartbeat pounded behind his eyes, throbbed in his wrist, and rattled his broken ribs. The burns on his legs, arms, and neck screamed for his attention, but the doctor stayed deaf to them. It was Jim's son who needed his focus. Leonard would care for the kid as if he were his own. He wouldn't let Jim down.

His body, however, seemed determined to let everyone down. Bones tried to empty a hypospray into the child's neck, but his knees buckled and the device tumbled out of his hand. "Dammit," the doctor cursed for the tenth time that hour. He steadied his elbow against the bed and bowed his head. Somewhere off in the distance, Jim called his name. Leonard heard Spock's voice, too, but couldn't risk breaking his concentration to focus on his friends' words. The next hypo shook in McCoy's hands as he filled it with medication. This was the third round of painkillers. If he gave the kid even one more milligram of the stuff, he'd have a heart attack.

Bones injected the serum and watched with satisfaction as the unconscious child visibly relaxed from the analgesic. The kid was a cute one. He had blond hair, slim lips, Carol's nose, and Jim's shoulders. A small birthmark above his bellybutton was shaped vaguely like one of the _Enterprise's_ shuttlecrafts. His tiny fists reminded McCoy of when his own daughter was that age.

"Laser scalpel," Bones said out of habit, as though one of his nurses was waiting at his shoulder for his next command. "No, no," he muttered, shaking his head back and forth. "Modulator. That's right. The modulator…"

Behind McCoy, the injured Spock and Kirk sat on the floor up against the medbay wall with Marcus between them. Khan had clamped their wrists and ankles together with metal cuffs. Although he couldn't see much from that angle, Kirk did notice that a little bit of color had returned to David's face, and his chest rose and fell with easier breaths. "Tell me about him," Jim said to Carol. "What's David like?"

Carol smiled at her son. "He's like you," she said, almost reluctantly. "Always looking for adventure. Always getting himself into trouble because he's looking for adventure. He likes strawberry ice cream, high-fives, hide-and-seek, and whistling. Oh, and he loves to pretend that he's driving a motorcycle."

One corner of Kirk's mouth smiled. That smile shriveled when Bones gave up all pretense of trying to appear like he could stand, and he gently nudged David to the far side of the bed so that he could sit on the edge. He groaned and rubbed his chest. Kirk sat up straight. "Bones?"

"He's almost out of the woods," McCoy announced with a gasp. "I've repaired the internal injuries and stopped the bleeding…" Bones propped himself up on his left elbow and turned on a dermal regenerator. To the child, he whispered, "Uncle Bones will make it all better, kid, just hang in there a little while longer…"

A drop of blood dripped off McCoy's pantleg and joined the growing puddle beneath him.

Kirk had to look away. He wiped his eyes, and winced when that simple movement caused pain to ricochet up his spine. "How much longer can he go on like this?" Jim whispered to Spock in a voice thick with emotion.

Spock frowned and shook his head. Dried green blood caked the left side of his face and his fingers trembled from pain. "The doctor has already exceeded not only my estimates but my highest hopes," he admitted. "I am truly awestruck by his perseverance. I doubt many men could stay on their feet in his condition, let alone perform complex surgery."

Suddenly, an orange light flared above the door and an alarm chimed. Khan, who stood by a computer terminal, laughing at McCoy's struggles, turned and frowned at the monitor. "He's checking our orbit," Carol said when she noticed that Jim was trying to see what deserved the superhuman's attention. "His first bomb took out the mess hall, the bridge, and most of the cargo bays. It was so powerful that the starbase listed on its axis five degrees. After that second bomb, we've got to be crooked by at least eight."

"Is that going to be a problem?" Kirk wondered.

Spock cocked an eyebrow. "If our orbit is altered by ten degrees or more, we will crash into the moon in a matter of hours."

"We'll crash in 83 minutes, to be precise," Khan announced to the room. He hit a couple buttons and frowned even further. "We're off by 13.7 degrees. And…" Khan scratched the back of his head and wrinkled his nose. "And I can't seem to activate the thrusters."

Kirk and Spock exchanged a glance. "Let us try," said Jim. "Your bomb probably just misaligned the—"

"Shut up," Khan hissed. "You will not be leaving this room, Kirk, dead or alive!" The superman unsheathed a phaser and fiddled with the settings. "83 minutes is _not_ enough time for you to suffer at my hands, Captain, so I'll just have to fix the thrusters myself."

Kirk's heart soared and his lips twitched. Even if Khan locked the door behind him when he left sickbay, somehow, they would find a way out. They just needed a few minutes without a weapon pointed at their noses…

Khan set his phaser's beam to wide, so when he fired it, the shocked Spock, Kirk, and Marcus were all stunned at the same time. They crumpled over onto their sides—unconscious. McCoy looked over his shoulder at the sound and groaned at the sight of fresh blood leaking from Spock's forehead. "Was that really necessary?" he growled at Khan.

Khan pointed the weapon at McCoy, who didn't even flinch. "Stay with your patient, Doctor." He looked Bones up and down and snorted. "I'd threaten you to keep you from running off, but I doubt you have much running in you."

Khan left. McCoy heard his fingers tapping against the panel on the outside wall. They were sealed in.

Bones looked from Jim to Spock, Spock to Carol, and Carol to David. He sighed, and then leaned over to whisper in the child's ear. "Here's the thing, kid," he said, "I'm betting that if you're anything like your old man, you're tough as hell, right? So, I'm going to leave you here alone, just for a minute. Mom, Dad, and Uncle Spock need to wake up from their nap if we're going to get out of this, ok? All right." McCoy took a deep breath, then stood and reached for another hypospray. He loaded it with adrenaline and stepped towards his fallen friends.

"Dammit, I can't—" he gasped. Both of his ankles folded. McCoy landed chin-first on the floor, spread-eagled. Everything burned and stung. To his cheek, the cold floor felt like a feather pillow…

Spock was closest. His outstretched hand, flecked with green blood, was only ten feet away. "Come on, McCoy," Leonard hissed at himself. To the hand he said, "I'm coming, Spock, I'm coming…"

Moving like a worm more than a man, Leonard McCoy crawled forward and stabbed the hypospray into Spock's wrist. The Vulcan rose from the floor like Jack from his box. Immediately he grabbed more adrenaline and emptied more hyposprays into Kirk and Marcus. Carol rushed to her son, and Jim crawled on his hands and knees to McCoy, who cried out in pain when Spock injected him with adrenaline as well. " _Bones_!"

"Kid should wake up soon." McCoy looked past Jim's shoulder and sure enough, just then, David's eyes opened and Carol started fussing over him. "I'm ok, Jim. Go meet your son."

Torn, Kirk looked back and forth between McCoy and the biobed. He only got up after a reassuring nod from Spock that the Vulcan would take care of their doctor. Jim approached his family, and Spock started rummaging through vials of medicine, searching for pain killers. Spock set one vial aside and McCoy gestured to it and said, voice strained, "I'm allergic to that."

"I am aware." Spock found another and placed it beside the hypospray.

"I'm allergic to that one, too."

"You are not. I memorized your medical file, Doctor."

Bones blinked. "Seriously? Wow. Don't I feel special."

"I assure you, Doctor, you are not unique. I am familiar with all senior officers' medical files for precisely such a time as this."

McCoy watched, intrigued, as Spock expertly dosed him with a painkiller that instantly went to work. "Big difference between 'familiar with' and 'memorized,' Spock."

The Vulcan's Adam's apple bounced. "Some of my crewmates are far more fragile than others, Doctor."

"What a gentle insult. Only you, Spock, manage to make me feel cared for and dismissed at the same time."

"And only you, Doctor, manage to irritate me so very much." Spock stood and held out his hand. "Can you stand?"

McCoy tested his body by flexing every muscle from head to toe. "Five more minutes, Mom…"

"I fear we do not have the time." Spock glanced at the computer terminal. "Khan is already on his way back."

"Hell." McCoy stood with Spock's help.

Kirk overheard them. "On the floor. Behind the biobed," he instructed Carol. "You too, Bones." Everyone in the room was surprised when McCoy didn't argue. He crouched with his arms around Carol, who wrapped hers around the dazed, semiconscious David, who kept asking questions far louder than any of them preferred.

"Let him talk," said Kirk when Carol shushed the child. "Might just be the distraction we need." He exchanged a knowing nod with Spock and the pair took up positions on either side of the medbay door, ready to pounce when it opened.

Khan stormed down the corridor, kicking debris aside as he went. There was no fixing the thrusters. An entire engineering team couldn't correct their orbit in time. In 60 minutes they would crash into the moon. So much for enjoying Kirk's suffering like an expensive meal. Khan set his phaser to 'kill.'

A trickle of windchimes behind him. Someone was transporting onto the starbase. Khan pivoted and fired blind.

Spock looked up from where his pointed ear was pressed against the medbay door. "Someone has transported in. Three, perhaps four individuals."

"Backup?" Carol wondered.

"For us or for him?" Bones also wondered.

"Shhh!" Kirk hissed at them. "Spock, what else do you hear?"

The Vulcan shut his eyes in order to concentrate on his hearing. "The newcomers and Khan are having a discussion about… About Section 31. About Starfleet. About… About us." The whole group perked up when footsteps approached. Spock and Kirk bent their knees and raised loaded hyposprays like daggers.

The footsteps stopped outside the medbay, but the door remained shut. "James Kirk," a new voice called. "My name is Eliana. My companions and I were revived alongside Khan who told us an astounding story about meeting you, about how you tried to kill us, about how you imprisoned him even after he saved your lives. But, Captain, in Khan's absence we read the logs he stole. We understand now. We know that the story he told us was false and meant to ensure our loyalty. And we are here to stop him. We are here to help you. We're here to surrender."

Kirk wore his thinking-frown. He looked at Spock for help, but the Vulcan's expression offered zero advice. Nearly a minute of indecision passed and then McCoy stood up, limped to the door, and said, "Kirk's unconscious, lady! What can a doctor do for you?"

"Doctor Leonard H. McCoy?"

"I'd shake your hand, but you'd have to open the door, darlin'."

"I hear that you are a resourceful man, Doctor. When I open this door will you attack us?"

"Honey, I'm so banged up that handshake is all I could manage. Besides, I'm a doctor, not a linebacker."

The woman on the other side of the door made an amused squeak with the back of her throat. "Few modern men are so familiar with old Earth lingo, Doctor. I suppose that's part of your charm."

Kirk scowled. _What_? Bones mouthed, shrugging. _I'm not flirting_!

"Very well. Doctor, if you would be so kind, please step back from the door and interlock your hands behind your head. If you're no threat to us, we won't be a threat to you."

Kirk nodded when Bones asked the question by raising his eyebrows. He backed up to the biobed and arranged his arms like she asked. "Ready when you are, honey."

Kirk and Spock didn't hesitate. The second those double doors parted, Spock pinched the woman's neck and Jim disarmed her. With McCoy and Spock behind him, and Carol and David behind them, Kirk entered the corridor and came face-to-face with three more phasers that were aimed not at him, but at Khan who knelt, submissive, on the deck.

"We didn't hurt her," Jim announced before the three men could ask. "She's just asleep."

The taller of the three sidestepped Khan and approached. "You must be Kirk. Khan was honest about one thing—you do have moxie."

Jim didn't recognize the ancient word. "Bones?"

"From context I think he means you've got balls, Jim."

"Nerve," Spock elaborated. "Audacity."

"That's what I said! Balls."

"Thank you, gentlemen," Jim sighed.

Khan spoke up. "You're choosing these foolhardy idiots over me?" he demanded of his ex-crew. "Dammit, Samuel, this galaxy could be ours! It _should_ be!"

Tall Samuel ignored him. "Our ship awaits just outside orbit, Captain. I suggest we leave before we crash into the moon. Do you accept our surrender?" Samuel and the other two men lowered their weapons.

Kirk knew that he was already too late, but he shouted " _Don't_!" anyway.

Khan's tall body whirled like a pinwheel. He knocked the three soldiers down with a single kick to the knees, and caught their weapons before they hit the ground. Three quick shots, and Samuel and the others were dead. More shots were fired towards the crowd. Kirk and Spock dove to the left and the right while McCoy shoved Carol and David back into the medbay.

Spock grunted and dropped with a hit to the shoulder. Jim couldn't take the millisecond necessary to make sure he was still alive. He fired his phaser at Khan, hitting him twice in the abdomen. Certain that would at least slow the super being down, Jim took that brief moment to glance at his First Officer. Spock was already back up on his feet—eyes wide, mouth about to shout. Jim turned back in time to duck under Khan's punch, but not in time to hang onto his weapon when Khan slapped it out of his hand. Before Khan could fire again, both Kirk and Spock tackled him against the wall with their full weight.

"Jim!" Carol called in the background. Her voice cracked on his name. "Jim— _Jim_!"

Whatever Carol needed would have to wait.

Kirk got his knees around Khan's neck and wrapped the rest of his body around his right arm. That crippled Khan long enough for Spock to grip his neck, but the pinch did nothing but anger Khan more. Roaring, he kicked with both legs and punched with both arms, sending the Starfleet officers skidding across the corridor. Khan's finger would've landed on his phaser's trigger but, right then, the familiar sound of a transporter made all three men turn and look.

Uhura, Scotty, Chekov, and Sulu materialized into the scene with weapons already leveled. Before Kirk, Spock, or Khan could blink, four blasts erupted from four phasers and collided with Khan's chest. He aimed his weapon as he stumbled, enraged but still on his feet, but then Spock launched himself forward like a missile and caught Khan by surprise. The pair wrestled. Jim joined the fray. Khan shouted something about coming after them all even in death—and he timed the threat perfectly because half a moment later, both Kirk and Spock grabbed his head and yanked it clockwise—breaking his neck.

Brief silence in the starbase.

Then, Carol again. "Jim! God, Leonard, hang on… Jim, get over here!"

Kirk waved Scotty aside and staggered to his feet under his own power. McCoy lay spread-eagled on his back just inside the medbay. Carol had ripped up half of her shirt and half of David's to create a makeshift bandage—a makeshift bandage that was already soaked in the blood flooding the floor. Blood from a burned wound in the center of Bones' chest.

"He—He was protecting David," Carol managed between panicked hiccups. "He shielded him, Jim, he took that shot for our son!"

The scene around Jim went into slow motion. Vaguely he heard Spock telling the others that Khan's crew had a ship nearby. He heard Uhura fussing over Spock's wounds, Chekov finding the ship using the medbay computer terminal, Sulu saying that they should leave Khan's body to crash into the moon along with the rest of the wrecked starbase, and Scotty insisting that they take the unconscious Eliana with them. Jim didn't remember picking Bones up off the red floor. He didn't even remember David's cries or the prickle of the transporter taking them all to safety. Nothing in the universe mattered except for the slow, staggered beat of McCoy's heart.

And, then, the abrupt absence of it.

* * *

 _THREE DAYS LATER_

Kirk caught up to Eliana as Yorktown security escorted her, shackled, towards a docked prison ship. "I wanted to say, 'thank you,'" he said, hand on her elbow. "McCoy wouldn't be alive if you hadn't donated your blood."

The woman gave a tentative smile. "You would've taken it if I hadn't offered, Captain. And the only reason why I'll be imprisoned for ten years instead of for life is because of that offer, isn't it?"

Kirk nodded. "Yes. Yes, it is. Thank you. Thank you, again."

"Good luck, Captain."

"Good luck to you." Eliana was out of sight when his communicator chirped. "Kirk."

" _Captain_ ," said Spock, " _he's awake_."

Jim sprinted to the infirmary at top speed. He found Bones lying in the same bed he'd left him in, with Spock also in the same place—beside him, both calloused hands clasped around one of the doctor's. "Is the kid ok?" McCoy croaked when he spotted Kirk. "Jim, is David—" McCoy couldn't help but yelp when Kirk nearly flattened him with a hug. Spock's strong arm slid between them and, like a crowbar, lifted Kirk's weight off the still-healing wound on McCoy's chest. "Take it easy, Jim. I'm all right."

"Don't do that again!" Jim sniffed and wiped his running nose on McCoy's blanket. "Goddammit, Bones, don't you ever _do that again_!"

"Sure. Right. I promise. I swear." McCoy cocked his eyebrows at Spock when he was sure that Jim couldn't see him.

"You died, Doctor," Spock said simply. "Your heart ceased functioning for nearly 13 minutes."

"Oh." McCoy cleared his throat, patted Jim's back, then repeated his original question. "Is David safe?"

Jim snorted. He released Bones and sat on the side of the infirmary bed with one finger wrapped possessively around the doctor's sleeve. "Thank you," he whispered. "You saved my son's life. No way we would've been able to save him in time if Khan had shot him. Bones, I don't know what else to say. Thank you."

"Welcome, Jim. You're welcome. One question, though." McCoy pointed at his IV drip with a single finger. "That's not Fentanyl, is it? I'm allergic to Fentanyl."

Jim nodded at Spock. "Your guardian Vulcan here kept a very close eye on the medical staff, Bones. Did you know he has your entire medical file memorized? Gave me this blank look when I asked if he knew I'm allergic to Retinax, but you? Everything memorized. Everything."

That gorgeous Georgia grin spread across McCoy's pale face. "Is that so?" He aimed a victorious smile at Spock, and the Vulcan did his best to ignore it.

He failed.

 **The End**


End file.
